


We look nothing like we used to

by berrone



Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: Getting Back Together, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Post-Book 6: Return of the Thief (Queen's Thief), Spoilers for Book 6: Return of the Thief (Queen's Thief), Swordfighting, crackfic but make it serious, remedying the lack of Royal bastard content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:40:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27767671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berrone/pseuds/berrone
Summary: The Magus and Sophos' Dad have history. Swordfighting, arguing, kissing.
Relationships: The Magus/Sophos' Dad (Queen's Thief)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 19





	We look nothing like we used to

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was a little out of my comfort zone but I think I made a valiant effort, take it or leave it. Title from “Our Song” by RKS :)

“Magus.” The tone was polite, but not exactly cordial. The magus turned, bringing his hand up to block the sun. 

“Alexios,” he said, “always a pleasure.” It wasn’t. The courtyard was too bright, and Sounis’ father was too frustrating. He was standing with a wooden practice sword in one hand, and the other on his hip as he squinted at the magus. The magus had watched idly as Alexios had, just a few moments ago, swung at a practice dummies head and missed entirely. 

“Spar with me,” he said. The magus blinked. He would absolutely not be sparring with the king’s father. 

“No thank you,” he said, which itself was not an exactly polite refusal. He’d come outside for fresh air and sunlight to read over a few missives, not to get hit with a stick and pull a muscle. 

Alexios laughed, “getting too old?” It might have been camaraderie if it were any other man. Indeed, if it were the same man, years earlier, it would have been. But the years had soured that particular friendship. The magus gritted his teeth. 

“Come on. Old time’s sake,” Alexios persisted. He was in a good mood, the magus noted. He supposed he had reason to be content, now that his son was king of a peaceful and prosperous country. Eddis was pregnant again, if rumors were to be believed, and everyone prayed for a son. If the Barons were tetchy, at least they were not in active rebellion against Sounis, which was nice for a change. 

But still, the man’s disposition toward the magus was surprising. He hadn’t smiled at him like that since…

“Alright then,” he said. He was becoming sappy in his old age. Alexios tossed him his sword, and the magus caught it easily by the handle. He set down his papers and positioned a paperweight on top of them. Then, he stood from the small wooden bench on the outskirts of the training yard. 

“Still a soldier at heart, huh?” Alexios chuckled as he grabbed another wooden sword off the rack for himself. 

“No,” the magus said, “those days are behind me. But in skill, well. You’ll find out soon enough, old man.” 

Alexios laughed loudly and dropped into first position. “Give me all you got.”

They circled around each other at first, a careful dance and short steps around and around. The magus struck first, a fast attack that Alexios deflected easily. He attacked again. The clack of their swords was loud in the mostly empty training yard. It was early, even for the king’s guard. Alexios liked to train before dawn, and the magus has been awake anyway. If he had seen Alexios through his window and decided to do his work outside for a change, it was only a coincidence. 

Alexios took the opportunity, while the magus was mildly distracted, to take the offensive. He took a faster approach now to block the magus, who knew Alexios preferred a slower but more intense fight. Alexios had strength and endurance, but he lacked speed. The magus overcame him again, and he was back to parrying blows. 

The magus was working up a sweat now. He wasn’t old -- no matter what Alexios or even that damned king of Attolia had to say -- but he was older than he used to be. His legs ached, but his arms were still strong. Strike after strike, he longed to be done with this already. He would go inside and lay on his couch until dinner, he decided.

“Tell me Chronos,” Alexios panted, using his given name. That made the magus grit his teeth. “Tell me,” he repeated, “do you usually come out here in the mornings to ogle the men while they’re training?” 

The magus put all his strength behind the next swing, and Alexios had to stumble back to avoid it. He kept up the fierce attack until Alexios began blocking them again. 

“I was simply curious--” 

“I don’t ogle anyone, least of all old men who can’t even hit a straw dummy,” the magus seethed. Alexios narrowed his eyes, his good mood evaporated. He swung hard, but his anger made him sloppy. After that, it was quick work for the magus to disarm him. 

Alexios’ sword hit the ground and he looked up at the magus with his mouth open. 

“I think I am done for the day,” the magus said and threw his practice sword on the ground beside Alexios’. There was no point in the faux politeness that dominated their public relationship. 

“Scared I’ll win this time?” But his false bravado was obvious and the magus simply laughed bitterly. Alexios’ face fell, and the magus reconsidered for a moment. For a moment, the magus thought he saw the ghost of a lovely memory in that face. 

“We could go again.” The magus got the impression that he wasn’t just talking about sparring. He didn’t know how he wanted to play this. 

“I can’t, Alexios,” he said, averting his eyes from the other man's face. 

Alexios scoffed, “and why not? Because we hate each other now?” 

“We do,” the magus countered, “at the very least, we say hateful things.” 

“We didn’t used to.” 

“Well we have for a long time, now. We serve our country, and it is our pleasure to do so. But it often can conflict with,” the magus swallowed, “personal relationships.”

“We’re just talking about sparring, Chronos,” he murmured. 

“No, we’re not.” 

It was quiet in the yard for a few moments. The magus finally looked at Alexios. He had a contemplative look on his face. He bent down and picked up his sword, tucking it under his arm. He walked toward the magus slowly, as if afraid of scaring him off. He stopped just in front of him. 

“Sounis is at peace,” Alexios said, “there’s no reason to keep fighting now.” 

The magus sighed, “I don’t think I know how to do anything else anymore.” It had been too many years, and too many words had been exchanged in that time. He didn’t know how to forgive, or if he could be forgiven himself. 

Alexios raised his hand to brush against his cheek. “Let me show you then.” 

He leaned in and then they were kissing. It was different now, but it felt so familiar. It had been so many years, and so much had changed, but Alexios still kissed him the same. Like it was the first time, but also like it would be the last. Chronos wrapped his arms around Alexios’ strong torso and felt him relax under his touch. He relaxed as well, and for once he let his mind leave him. 

When they finally parted, Chronos gasped in the crisp morning air, “you bastard.” 

“Technically,” he said, and Chronos laughed. Now his mind was coming back to him, his happiness dimmed. Short-lived, that was. 

“Melissa,” he said. Alexios’ wife. He didn’t know why his conscience was suddenly hitting him in the face. He hadn’t worried before, when they had been sneaking around all those years ago. 

Alexios sighed. “Encouraged me to finally...get my affairs in order. Well, the one affair, anyway.”

“You can’t kiss your way out of everything. A little mwah,” he said, giving Alexios a peck on his stubbled cheek, “will not fix all our problems.” 

“I know,” he said seriously, “but it helps, yes?” His expression was so earnest that it nearly pained Chronos. There was an understanding that passed between them in that look. That there was so much wasted time behind them, and yet still so much in front of them. It was daunting, being known and offering your heart up to the possibility of being crushed yet again. 

Chronos smiled against his better judgement. He knew they would need to talk. They would need to talk a lot, in fact. There was nothing simple about rekindling a failed romance. They were old men now, as much as they both loathed to admit it to one another. In the years between they had, at times, been downright cruel. But at the end of the day, there was this. 

“It does,” he breathed, and leaned back in.


End file.
